Stop Confusing God's "Intended Will" for His Redemptive Nature
God is redemptive in nature. Therefore, although He can make a masterpiece out of a mess, don’t confuse yourself in thinking that it had to be a mess in order to be a masterpiece. Let me say that again. Your sin was not the necessity for God's masterpiece.
If I hadn’t committed adultery, we wouldn’t have grown deeper in our marriage.
If I hadn’t left my wife and kids for a season, I wouldn’t have realized my need for them.
If I hadn’t gotten drunk, I wouldn’t have been bold enough to share the gospel with my friends that night.
If I hadn’t gone to the strip club that night, I wouldn’t have met ....
If I hadn’t gotten an abortion, I wouldn’t have finished college or gotten married to the love of my life.
If I hadn’t divorced my husband in frustration, I wouldn’t have ever seen my own brokenness.
If I hadn’t gambled that night, I wouldn’t have ever received enough money to pay that bill.
God is redemptive in nature. Therefore, although He can make a masterpiece out of a mess, don’t confuse yourself in thinking that it had to be a mess in order to be a masterpiece.
Let me say that again...
Your sin was not the necessity for God's masterpiece.
His Goodness, His Sovereignty, His Omnipotence, however, was and is.
And yet we tell ourselves this subtle lie to justify certain sins in our life or certain seasons of sin in our life to quiet the condemnation and shame that can seep forth from the remembrance of our own actions‒when in actuality, it’s the freedom found in Christ’s blood, through His forgiveness, that can only erase the shame associated.
Rest in God’s grace and goodness. Don’t rest in justifying sin upon seeing any good outcomes that can come from the sin and then reassure yourself by saying “Oh, well maybe it had to be this way in order for this good to happen in my life.”
No! It was the redemptive nature of Christ! And His redemptive nature ought to compel us to instead say, “Wow, look at God's grace in my life! Look at His goodness despite me! Praise the Lord for His mercy! He didn’t have to do it, but He did!!!”
Again, when we see glimpses of good that spring forth despite our sin- it’s easy to believe the lie that we had to sin in order for “this good” to occur. Not so. The truth is that God is just so sovereign that He has the power and authority for good to be brought forth despite your sin. Why? Because He is redemptive in nature.
“28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
-Romans 8:28
What I learn from King David’s rape of Bathsheba is that the Lord used such a broken man to accomplish so many of God’s purposes. But we can’t gloss over the consequences that came with that sin too. A child died as a consequence of David’s sin. And we can’t ignore the generational consequences of his lustful actions that traveled to the next generation (his son raped his own half-sister, his other son had 700 wives and 300 concubines, his other son publicly raped David’s own concubines for all to see. )
Secondly, we can’t gloss over what was God’s intended plan for King David if he hadn’t sinned- something we will never know in its entirety. What did God intend on doing if David had remained faithful to one wife? If he hadn’t raped Bathsheba? If he hadn’t murdered another man in order to marry that man’s wife etc? I’ll never know. We’ll never know.
But here’s the main point.
God's intended plan never involves us sinning in order to accomplish what He wants to do in and through our life. There is never a time in which God smiles and is pleased when we sin.
3 quick scriptures to back up what I’m saying:
11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” - Jeremiah 29:11
Sin will forever and always be destructive in nature. Therefore, the plans that God intends for us do not involve the nature of death, which is sin. He wants us to forever choose life, which is contained in His Word.
15 See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction. 16 For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, and to keep his commands, decrees and laws; then you will live and increase, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess.
17 But if your heart turns away and you are not obedient, and if you are drawn away to bow down to other gods and worship them, 18 I declare to you this day that you will certainly be destroyed. You will not live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. -Deuteronomy 30: 15-18
For the New Testament believer, this promise still holds true.
Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit. -Galatians 6:8
But you might say, “Yeah, but didn’t Jesus say, in this life, you will have many trials and tribulations and that you will go through?”
Yes, but some tribulations He never intended for us. They were brought on by our own sinfulness and foolishness.
People ruin their lives by their own foolishness and then are angry at the LORD. -Proverbs 19:3
We don’t know what God had planned for David if He had been faithful to his first wife. We don’t know what generational blessings would’ve been brought forth from His obedience to the Word.
Yet, we do know how the Lord still used David’s adultery with Bathsheba to accomplish God’s purposes, therefore, displaying His Own redemptive nature.
I’ll summarize by saying it again...
PonderedThought:
It’s never God’s will for you to sin in order for God to work in and through your life. God can use anything, yes! But don’t confuse yourself by thinking that the only way something good was brought forth in your life was because of your own personal sin. This is a dangerous trap, deceitful thinking, and quite frankly, a lie that many have believed throughout the years. That “good” was brought forth in your life because God is Good. He is Sovereign. And He is Redemptive in Nature.
An Ode to the Stay-At-Home Mama: We in this together!
I saw how you managed to shave in the shower, sing to a crying baby in a bouncy chair 5 feet away, brush your teeth, and dress yourself while dancing to distract your baby from crying even more for not picking her up.
It’s a profession that’s not accurately depicted on screen, and one that is rarely illuminated in day-to -day conversations. When you say it, the response doesn’t reflect the same admiration that one would have of an investment banker or lawyer. In fact, its mention is often meet with eyes that suggest, “Aww...it must be nice. I’m sure you just love it.”
And we do.
We love being “stay-at-home mothers,” or as I prefer to call it, “CEO of our home-enterprises.”
But for many, the inaccurate images of mothers restfully waking up, lounging around, and peacefully playing with a doting child/ren for the large part of the day...usurps the empathy, sensitivity, and conscious-awareness that is fitting for the work that SAHMS actually do.
So, to the stay at home mom who feels overlooked, I see you.
I saw how you woke up in the morning to your little one crying, quickly nursed or grabbed a bottle, changed a diaper, cleaned up yesterday’s messes, and silently encouraged yourself in between the coming demands constantly felt throughout the morning.
I saw how you managed to shave in the shower, sing to a crying baby in a bouncy chair 5 feet away, brush your teeth, and dress yourself—all while dancing to distract your baby from not crying even more due to not picking her up
I saw how you managed to make breakfast for yourself, feed your LO in her highchair, and wash dishes—while thinking of what to eat for lunch and possibly make for dinner.
I saw how you managed to get out of the house with a fully stocked diaper bag, snacks, water, books, carseat, wallet, charged phone, and somehow your own sanity. Not only that, I saw how you managed to get back home and walk back into your house with all of those same items.
I saw how you managed to engage in adult conversation while watching your child out of your peripheral, and how you took note of the stranger walking too closely in her direction, while also thinking about when your next Amazon package was to arrive (because we know that a mother’s mind can cover ALL of these things in a span of 30 seconds.)
I saw how you answered the question, “Do you work?” with grace and poise...when you really wanted to scream and say, “Yes, I work 18 hours a day, seven days a week...and I’m on call during the night.”
I saw how you put your LO(s) to sleep, and stayed up late afterwards like a little kid fighting bedtime because you wanted to enjoy as much precious alone time as you could before daylight (or let’s be honest, before your baby unexpectedly woke up in the night for a feeding).
I saw your frustrated efforts to remain faithful and consistent in your own personal pursuits despite your daily schedule feeling so out of your control.
I saw the day you felt it too much to be a wife, a mother, a keeper of your household, a businesswoman, and simply you. I saw you feeling alone. I saw your words falling on deaf ears. And I saw your desire to press pause on it all for just one second.
But do you know what else I see?
I see that you’re not alone. I see the Lord Almighty wrapping His arms around You and sustaining you for the next hour, and even for your very next breath. I see Him so pleased with the way you think through your day’s activities. I see Him so proud of how you nourish, soothe, and protect His precious child, whom He gave specifically to you to steward. I see Him joyfully looking on when you choose to engage with her and sing that song for the 100th time. I see Him smile when you read that book to her, even when you question whether or not your she is grasping all of the lessons you desire her to learn. I see God so impressed with the way you think of new ideas to make your life just a “little” more organized. I see Him take careful note of all your actions that go unnoticed. I see Him delightfully watching you serve your family in ways that no man will ever know nor understand.
Sis, I want to let you know that I see you. I see the mess. I see the endless roles you play. I see your desire to be everything and to do everything. And I see you feeling like you’ve fallen short everyday.
You’re not alone sis.
I promise, you’re not alone.
God’s watching, even when no one else is. Take a deep breath and revel in how proud your God is of you. Actually… imagine for one second the Lord’s pleasure over you.
It’s the one job that doesn’t include a written evaluation.
It’s a job that gives no prospect of promotion, monetary compensation, nor benefits package.
Yet it’s the one job that reaps a sense of purpose that a price point would deem insulting.
So when others try to hand you an evaluation through tonal questions such as, “It’s cold out. He doesn’t have a hat? Wait, you’re still breastfeeding? You let him eat that? Hmmm...still not walking?, and my personal favorite: “So what have you’ve been doing all day (other than taking care of another human being/s)?” remember that you’re not alone.
I see you.
But more importantly, God sees it all.
So the next time we pass one another in the grocery store, library, park, and glance in each other’s direction...let’s look past the leggings, the food stained mouths, the echoes of our own mommy voices..and smile. It’s apparent. We are all just surviving...and honestly, sometimes that’s more than enough.
PonderedThought: Moms, have you taken time lately to remember that God is looking so proudly on your labor of love? For others reading, what are some ways you can be a conduit of God’s kindness towards any mothers of little one(/s) in this season?
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This is Why We Mourn Nipsey Hussle: 1985-2019
He was an artist, an entrepreneur, a community activist, and an innovative thinker in this generation. He left behind a committed partner, two young children, a brother, two parents, and a grandmother.
On March 31st, 2019, Ermias Asghedom (aka Nipsey Hussle) was murdered outside his clothing store, Marathon. Ermias went to his store to help out an old friend, who was recently released from prison, by buying him some clothes before his friend saw his family. In this particular instance, Ermias didn’t have his body guard nor security team with him. Unfortunately, a man named Eric Holder was able to approach Ermias, Ermias’ friend, and Ermias’ friend’s nephew outside the store. Eric Holder shot all three, but it’s reported that Eric Holder was able to return and shoot Ermias multiple times after realizing that no shots were fired back at him. Reports say that Eric Holder was motivated to kill after a personal dispute that occurred minutes earlier between he and Ermias. Ermias’ older brother showed up on the scene minutes after Ermias was shot and performed CPR on him before the paramedics came. Sadly, Ermias passed away shortly after.
Ermias left behind a committed partner, two young children, a brother, a sister, two parents, and a grandmother.
Ermias Asghedom and Lauren London
He was an artist, an entrepreneur, a community activist, and an innovative thinker in this generation.
Ermias’ Son
He opened the first smartstore, which sold clothing but also incorporated technology that allowed buyers to gain access to exclusive content through engagement and purchases in the store. In addition to owning this business, he also purchased the entire strip mall, where Marathon store was located, and had plans to create a six-story complex, filled with residential housing and commercial businesses.
He founded Vector 90, which was a tech hub that housed coworking spaces, rooms for seminars or networking events for the community, and a floor specifically for a STEM program for teenagers who might be interested in technology as a viable career option.
He signed with Atlantic records and strategically made sure that he kept ownership of his master recordings.
“He once gave a pair of shoes to every student at an elementary school in Hyde Park, where he owned a burger joint, a fish market and a barbershop,” according to the Los Angeles Times. “He helped fund upgrades to the campus playground and offered jobs to his struggling neighbors. If someone lost a loved one to gun violence, he would sometimes chip in for the funeral.”
” He also helped restore a beloved and abandoned neighborhood roller rink that had important ties to the L.A. hip-hop scene.”
He dreamt of making south L.A. an area that birthed intellectuals, creativity, and new business.
He was a visionary and a lover of his community.
The day after he passed away, he was scheduled to meet with the city police to discuss how to end gang violence in the area.
He valued truth.
This is only a snapshot of why so many of us mourn Ermias Asghedom.
He was such a great example of someone who lived with purpose, who sought to give back to this life, and who emptied himself of his gifts, talents, and resources for the sake of others.
Honestly, I believe if Jesus had had His first coming to Earth a couple of weeks ago, I think Ermias and Jesus would’ve been friends.
No, I’m not talking about the “white man’s religion” jesus. I’m not talking about the “I’ll oppress the poor through twisted moral justifications” jesus. I’m talking about the real Jesus.
I’m talking about the Jesus who grabbed a rope of chords and chased out the religious leaders in the temple because they were ripping off the poor. The One who touched lepers when everyone else thought that they were cursed and the scum of the earth. The One who wasn’t afraid to call out the moral failures of His leader by calling King Herod a “fox.” The Jesus who saved a woman caught in adultery from being stoned by reversing the finger on the very ones seeking to kill her.
Yeah, like I said, if Jesus were walking the Earth in the flesh during the time of Ermias’ life, I believe Ermias and Jesus would’ve been friends.
They both grew up in places that no one thought could produce any good.
They both saw the least of these not as an “other” but as their own.
They both had a way of taking persons deemed worthless and giving them opportunity.
They both had enemies.
Ermias’ last tweet before passing away.
We mourn because Ermias lived his life with vision and on mission. He lived out what he believed. He left his community with more than what he was born into. He operated in his gifting. He emanated wisdom. His life challenges us all. R.I.P.
PonderedThought: As we mourn the legacy of Ermias, remember this:
“It’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”-Abraham Lincoln.
Are you living your life in purpose, for purpose, and on purpose? If you were to die tomorrow, would you die empty-knowing you died doing and living exactly the way God called you to live. Life is but a vapor. Don’t waste it. Live, prepared to stand before your Creator.
P.S. Many of our hearts are heavy and mourn over the passing of Nipsey Hussle. Let’s pray. For his family. For the south L.A. community. And for so many affected by his passing.
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That day I tried to feed a man in need...
Walking towards the front door entrance of the grocery store, I noticed a man sitting outside the sliding electric doors. He was asking incoming patrons for any spare coins or cash. I had neither.
I glanced at the clock on my Macbook. 4:00 PM on the dot. After reaching for the keys on my desk, I turned to grab my bag behind my office chair. My feet preceded my thoughts as I headed straight through the classroom door. After a full day of teaching, I was free to focus on my evening plans.
But that line of thought, which was in the direction towards the comforts of my couch, was halted when I realized that I was hungry. Such hunger pangs couldn’t wait for a 30-minute commute home. Of course, it didn’t help that I was PMSing, which ultimately led me to make the final decision to splurge on some unhealthy treats. So coming to a logical conclusion, I drove off my school’s parking lot and headed straight to Jewel-Osco, a well-known grocery store in Chicago.
Once parked, I stepped out of my car and freely left my colossal winter coat in the back seat. There was a surprisingly warm break in the streak of cold weather.
Walking towards the front door entrance of the grocery store, I noticed a man sitting outside the sliding electric doors. He was asking incoming patrons for any spare coins or cash. I had neither.
Cautiously coming up to him, I said with a little base in my voice, so as to be heard over the very brisk Chicago winds, “I can get you something to eat.”
Huh?” he replied.
“I can get you something to eat inside... if you want?”
“Oh okay... Yeah... yeah,” he said.
The man sat and waited for me outside the store. For whatever reason, I felt an unexpected surge of excitement once I walked inside. I wanted to get him something really good.
Hot broccoli cheddar soup or chicken tortilla soup? The choices the choices.
“Hi,” I said to a complete stranger, who proceeded in scooping some soup into his paper bowel.
“Is this soup good.. or is it just okay?“ I asked the man while giving a conspicuous look, demanding the utmost honesty.
After hearing his feedback, I made my final decision and poured the broccoli cheddar into my container.
I really hope he isn’t lactose intolerant.
Then I headed to the bakery section to grab some bread. I envisioned this older man dipping this bread into his hot soup and having it melt in his mouth.
Okay. Let me stop before I get ahead of myself. I’m all set. Actually, wait... who eats without getting something to drink?
Before I knew it, I almost forgot my reasoning for coming into the store in the first place. I said “almost” right? Because to be honest, the idea of eating some quality dark chocolate had been on the back of my mind all day. My hunger was just the perfect excuse to go out and buy it.
I scurried to the check out line and prayed that the gentleman hadn’t thought that I’d forgotten about him. By this time, I’d been inside the store well over 30 minutes.
Bags in hand, I walked out and saw the man in my periphery, seated in a different location along the perimeter of the store.
Excitement quickened my steps.
“Here you go,” I said while proudly extending the brown paper bag towards him, replete with eating utensils and napkins.
“What's this?” he asked.
“It’s some soup and…”
What I thought would be a grateful exchange, turned sour very quickly. The man began cursing and stating words not worth mentioning. From the little I gathered, this man didn’t approve of the bag being too bulky.
I snatched my hand away and walked towards my car with his food still gripped tightly around my fingers.
If you’re beginning to feel sorry for me and think I’m a saint and he a jerk, eh thank you, but keep reading.
I prayed in frustration:
Unbelievable God. I mean really. I thought this was something that You wanted for me to do. I thought...well maybe next time. Actually, I’m not done talking. It’s like, he just wasn’t thankful. Man Lord, I can’t believe that though. Here I was trying to make sure that this man could eat and that he had a nice meal. Father, I got sourdough bread. I didn’t just get regular bread...but I got sour…dough.
By the time I reached my car, my spirit was light after rehearsing to the Lord my frustration. The situation actually became comical the more I thought about it.
While driving away, I called my girlfriend and rehashed to her the story. We laughed and went on to discuss different topics. But once I hung up with her, the imagery of this man’s look of grimace and disgust remained etched in my mind. I kept replaying the situation over and over again. And so I began praying for him.
And that’s when the Lord interrupted my thoughts.
The Lord began to remind me of all the detailed thought I executed when deciding this man’s meal.
From wanting to make sure his soup tasted good, to choosing the perfect bread, to carefully pondering a drink to wash down both, to ensuring that this man had all the right eating utensils and napkins, to desperately hoping that this man had waited patiently for me outside.
All this thought. All this time. All my inner excitement to give him what I’d prepared. And for him to complain about the bag being too bulky. I was frustrated. And honestly, even though he was a stranger, I felt hurt.
Remember this, Jessica? I felt the Holy Spirit pressing in on my feeling. But I didn’t understand why.
And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The thought came out of nowhere, but I knew the Lord was speaking directly to me.
Every time you compare your husband to someone else. Every time you complain to me about what he’s not doing, what he doesn’t have etc., you’re telling me that the gift that I’ve carefully assembled, treasured, and equipped to handle you… is not enough. Consider how much thought and perfection I’ve placed in handing you over to your husband and your husband to you for your possession. Stop comparing. Stop complaining. And thank me for him. His gifts, his talents, his personality, and even his flaws... are meant for you.
I held no anticipation that the Lord would use this strange man to show me myself.
This man was me. God showed me that I was him.
Every time I complain about my husband. Every time I pray to God to make my husband more this or that–prayers stated with nothing to do with God’s glory, the advancement of God’s kingdom, nor growth in my husbands spiritual vitality for the benefit of our family. But selfish prayers uttered with the only motivation to benefit me. When I do this, I’m basically waving my finger at God saying ,“What You have given me is not enough!”
Whereas I walked away from that incident saying to myself “Ungrateful, ungrateful, ungrateful…” I do the same and often mask it as a prayer request.
The day I tried to feed a man in need, I walked away with a changed perspective.
PonderedThought: Maybe you aren’t married, or perhaps you can’t relate because you and your spouse are simply perfect. But if you can relate, stop selfishly complaining in your head against your spouse. Because when you do, you may be hurting the very heart of God by implicitly saying, “what You gave me wasn’t good enough.” Instead, pray fervently for him or her. For God loves your spouse just as much as He loves you. Ponder on that thought.
(Blog post describes a memory experienced years ago, and yet still reflected upon due to its received revelation.)
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Why do we (women) hide so much
Why is it that when we get together, I’m not going to tell you that from the time you walked in, I’ve been sizing you up, unconsciously, by comparing my body, hair, and child to yours? Or that I canceled our last lunch date and told you that I was simply “cramping” when I really wanted to say that I felt like I was dying and felt all alone and wanted my mama and questioned why the good Lord had to give us cycles every month?
I walk into a social setting amongst other women. There, I see a pool of lovely ladies called my friends.
“Wow, Jess you’re hair looks so good.”
"Thank you!" I respond.
But I’m not going to tell you that I stayed up watching natural hair videos on YouTube (for days), stayed up until 3:00 AM trying to perfect the three-strand twist out, and then pretended I was asleep at 6:00 AM so that my hubby could grab baby when little one began to cry.
“Your husband always showers you with compliments. You guys are so in love.”
….uh yeah. We just got into an argument on the way here. And yes, we love each other deeply-but trust me, it’s by choice every day. And speaking of choice, do you know why he’s complimenting me so much? Because he knows he needs to reassure me of certain truths due to my own personal insecurities. But nobody needs to know all of that. Let’s keep it light. So I’ll respond instead with...
“Yep, he’s a keeper!”
Why is it that when we get together, I’m not going to tell you that our light jokes are making me laugh and at the same time causing me to slip something “else” out due to subtle incontinence post pregnancy? Or that from the time you walked in, I’ve been sizing you up, unconsciously comparing my body, hair, and child to yours? Or that I canceled our last lunch date because I was simply “cramping,” when I really wanted to say that I felt like I was dying and felt all alone and just wanted my mama and questioned why the good Lord had to give us cycles every month?
I am being a bit dramatic, but then again, am I?
That day I wore my 4-inch heel. Let's just say, I haven't worn them since.
As women, I think we’ve made it our job to keep it together. From the time we were young, we’ve trained ourselves to go to school and hide the pain inside when we were cramping. We’ve held our breath when getting that first perm that felt like fire or those braids that felt much too tight, or when getting our eyebrows threaded or that wax down there. We’ve mastered the “walk,” even when those 4-inch heels were killing our feet.
We hide pain well. Some of us are better at it than others.
So you may be wondering, "what are you getting at Jess? All hese things aren't necessarily bad." You're right. Ladies, I’m not here to tell you to stop. Do as you please. However, I am here to warn you of something much much graver.
When we take our ability to have it together physically and begin applying it to our inner lives, there will be trouble.
1 Timothy 5:24
"The sins of some are obvious, reaching the place of judgment ahead of them; the sins of others trail behind them."
If I can be honest, my "mom" friends and I do not struggle with sins that are obvious and outwardly seen. We are not sleeping around, drinking heavily, partying into the night, watching porn, or posting provocative pics on social media. In fact, most of us look “well put together.” We go to church, take care of our husbands, children, and homes. And responsibly take care of whatever else needs to be taken care of.
But if I must be blunt.
We (seemingly well-put together women) are the ones that you really need to watch out for.
For we struggle with sins that can’t be seen. Sins that no one will ever know about, if not confessed. And these, my friends, are much deadlier.
They can lurk behind the shadows and fester. They can wreak havoc in our hearts without anyone ever knowing. They can lead to thoughts that we’d never want to utter. And they can destroy our lives with one spark of a match.
These are the sins of one’s inner life.
It’s pride, jealousy, slander, adulterous thoughts, discontentment, judgment etc. No, you may not see us downing a bottle of Hennessy, but drinking from the pool of evil thought and lies is just as worst.
So ladies, walk like a model in those heels, knowing good and well you will change into your flats as soon as you get into the car. I’m not mad at you.
But, I plead with you. Do not take this same kind of conditioning when it comes to your inner life. Be honest with your girlfriends, husbands, sisters. Confess your sins and ask for prayer. Because if you don’t, these untouched sins could destroy the fruit that the Holy Spirit wants to do in and through your life. Transparency is key.
Lately, there have been sins that I’ve had to confess to my husband that I am really ashamed to share. But in confessing, I have experienced the freedom of Christ in a way that is so powerful that Satan cannot hold me in bondage.
PonderedThought: You’re not perfect. You’re broken just like the next, so don’t take yourself so seriously that you feel pressured to keep upholding an image that is simply false. Humble yourself. Confess. And embrace the fullness of the cross. Yep, we all are in need of the Blood. You ain’t no different.
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Ladies, this is the one "thing" that shouldn't surprise you, but it ought to make you grieve
It wasn’t the first time that I managed to listen to her, seemingly without judgment. But was I really not judging...or due to too many experiences, was I simply devoid of all surprise?
It was another phone call, another text, another conversation. As usual, I sat and listened to her. I paused my thoughts and nodded without surprise. I highlight not one instance, but instead, I choose her to symbolize them all. It wasn’t the first time that I managed to listen, seemingly without judgment. But was I really not judging...or due to experience, was I simply devoid of all surprise?
How’d I end up here?
When I was ten, I listened to my mom and one of her girlfriends recount a fight that had happened outside our nearby middle school. Without pause, an indescribable heaviness cloaked my entire being as tears fell without thought. The act of someone being hit, kicked, bruised...hurt. I didn’t know it then, but I was grieving. I was grieving over the fallen world in which I was living in and would later witness of its deepest fallacies even more—many of which would be found in me.
That heaviness remained throughout the day. But somewhere along the way, my grieving stopped. My tears remained dry. And I became accustomed to hearing story after story.
I thought that me listening to the sins of this world without blinking, without being surprised, meant that I’d finally matured from the quick act of judging when I’d hear another speak of one’s hidden sins; when I’d hear of the most perverse act; or when I’d hear of the crudest revenge played out on the news. I thought the fact that I could listen and not feel surprised meant that I created a safe space to allow another to confide in me and speak freely. But, one day recently, the Lord showed me that sin ought to not surprise me...but it ought to make me grieve. No, I don't mean that I should always manifest grief through tears, as I did when I was ten (though some circumstances may call for that).
Instead, what I'm saying speaks more to the matter of the heart.
Because sin is death, it's okay to grieve and feel a certain level of spiritual heaviness when taking witness to sin in my life and even in others. When I don't, it's substitute—cynicism—easily slips in and skews my view on life. Once cynicism takes root, it leads to hopelessness, and hopelessness leads to despair.
But, you may still be wondering, "Why Grieve?" "Grieve" is such a strong action word.
Because when you see God offering a storage of everlasting water, yet persons walking around thirsty for illicit sex, attention, validation, love, money; when you see God offering us unshakable joy, and yet so many paying high costs for temporary gratifications; when you see God offering us eternal dwellings, where moth and dust cannot destroy, and yet so many settling for makeshift tents; when you see God offering Himself...and us exchanging Him for _____ because He just isn't enough, it should make you and I grieve.
The heaviness that I felt as a little girl when witnessing hate is reminiscent to the heaviness I feel when I see the disintegration of a friend’s marriage, when I hear of another’s struggle with sexual immorality, when I see a family filled with strife and dysfunction, when I hear of a former friend now hooked on cocaine, and when I see my own inner pride choose to unleash venom towards my beloved. No, I don’t have to be surprised. BUT, I ought to take pause to grieve.
Why?
Because, this was never the Lord’s intended plan. This was never the Lord’s intended purpose for our lives. This was not how it was meant to be. And that my friend, should make one grieve.
I encourage you to take time to grieve and feel the Father's heart. And once you do, simultaneously grab onto hope for dear life. Pray—acknowledging how messed up this life and you are. And then, with all eyes on the light of Christ, with all eyes filled to the brim with the vision of a life that is to come but not yet, silently ask, “Redeem that which is broken. Fix what my eyes can see is messed up. Take back allllllll that Satan has stolen. And make new again.”
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Favor Ain't Fair: Why I Struggle Praying for "Favor"
There’s a reason as to why I don’t constantly ask for "favor” from the Lord. His favor is not “fair,” and because of that, I don’t know how to deal with it.
Have you ever experienced favor from the Lord? No, not in a way in which you subscribe to false humility by secretly acknowledging that a certain result was by your own merit. I mean that moment when you knew, without a doubt, that you didn’t deserve that grade, that observation, that evaluation report, that bonus, or that grace from a coworker, friend, or boss. Of course this is a conundrum of a question, because when do we ever really “deserve” anything except death? But you know what I mean...right?
I experienced the favor of the Lord on my job when recently pregnant. There were sooooooo many times in which I didn't have a lesson prepared (I'm a teacher), and somehow on days such as that, I taught the best lesson of my life. Another example included a time when I needed to create a project for students to do, and through limited time, I did so in a very rushed manner. Later, students told me how that project changed their life (what, really?!). It was during these times in which I knew that there was nothing at all for me to accredit my success to except by the favor of the Lord. He literally had His hand on me.
And yet, there have been several instances in my life in which I’ve not asked for the favor of the Lord.
Why? Ummm.... because I secretly think that I don’t need it (insert *gasp).
What do I mean? I think to myself the following thoughts: "I got this. I can do this on my own. I’ll ask for favor only on things that I know that I can’t do." I know it sounds silly, but these are my true thoughts.
But if I were to really look to the root as to why I think these thoughts, it's due to these two points:
If I can be honest, I want to secretly bask in my own glory when things go well. I want to pride myself in my own capabilities when things go exactly according to plan. Subsequently, I end up judging others by secretly thinking..,“well things didn’t go well for them because they didn’t do “xyz.” What pride. Yes, what pride :(.
Secondly, I succumb to these thoughts because (don’t judge me), I think that my own capabilities are more reliable than relying on or even seeking the favor of the Lord. Instead of running to the Lord and asking Him to grace me in my shortcomings, I seek ways for me to actively fix my shortcomings. The former requires faith. The latter allows pride to fester when things go well; but it also allows for feelings of inferiority to seep in when things don’t go well. My pursuit of the Lord's favor and my responsibility to improve upon my shortcomings shouldn't be mutually exclusive. Instead, both should be beautifully coupled together. Unfortunately, I tend to lean more towards the "fixing."
In short, when I experience the favor of the Lord, there is no room for glory. There are no doors for pride to be opened. I am left only to praise Him for His goodness, His willingness, His grace, and His mercy; while also being acutely aware of my own misgivings when left without His favor.
PonderedThought: I encourage you to pray for the favor of the Lord in every aspect of your life. His favor is not limited! If married, ask for favor in yall’s marriage. If working, ask for favor with your boss and in your work. If a mother, ask for supernatural favor to obtain more sleep, to keep the house in order, and to not be driven to insanity when looking at "organized" chaos (you can tell I’m a new mom, huh?) In short, we need the favor of the Lord. Don’t be ashamed or prideful to begin asking for it. And when you do, be reminded of whom you ought to praise when things go well.
Favor is never fair. Simply except it and praise God for HIs grace.
This little one reminds me of God's favor. There was nothing I did to deserve this gift of motherhood.
See link below in order to learn "what is" and "how to pursue" the favor of God.
Lord, Make Me Like a Child Again
My children’s expressions pinpointed a joy and a looseness that I craved.
Their movements lacked a sense of awareness and need for perfection that I coveted.
They simply ran.
Have you ever heard the phrase, “I wanna be a kid again”?
I hear this phrase often when adults refer to the absence of bills, stress, and major responsibilities that children have.
Hmmm....that would be nice in some ways.
Interestingly, the Lord is beckoning us to become like children again—not for the aforementioned reasons. Nor in terms of returning to the little wisdom, knowledge, and discernment we had as children.
The Lord is wanting us to become like children again through our disposition towards Him.
“Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
”
Recently, while at the park with my kiddos, I observed my three-year-old and twenty-month-old running on the asphalt.
Their expressions pinpointed a joy and a looseness that I craved.
Their movements lacked a sense of awareness and need for perfection that I coveted.
They simply ran.
Coats hanging half off. Arms swinging awkwardly. Feet shuffling this way and that.
When they ran, I didn't see worry etched across their faces. I didn't see doubt. I saw very little self-consciousness.
Instead, I witnessed a beauty within their displayed confidence in simply being able to run.
I saw freedom, y’all.
As an adult, I’ve learned the social cues, the proper responses, and the ability to maintain control in both movement and word.
I’ve learned the right moments to laugh, the perfect moments to smile, and the appropriate gestures to make in order to appear mature.
I don't run with the sense of freedom my children possess.
Yet, when I come to the throne of mercy and of grace, I sense the Holy Spirit beckoning me to strip off my clothing and to allow His presence to burn away that which I most want others to see—my very adult-like exterior shell.
When He does so, I feel naked and exposed. My eyes suddenly become open to the wickedness that lays in my heart, and I become ashamed. He reveals my hidden thoughts and my hidden motives. The “adult” in me wants to quickly put my clothes back on. I want to leave His presence and come back with thicker clothing—harder to remove.
I find justifications.
I deflect.
I push away- afraid of the light that burns away the carnal. I frantically look for the strands of thread that I think are somewhat clean.
But right before I resort to running away all together, God's manifest presence overwhelms. Suddenly, I'm reminded of what it feels like to be a child again.
I'm reminded of the inexpressible joy and freedom obtained in His Presence when I relinquish my wants and desires through surrender and trust.
He's a Good Good Father.
I remember the warmth....yes, the warmth when I replace my substandard clothing in exchange for His royal clothing of righteousness.
Why do I forget this feeling? Why is it so hard to answer the call when God says, “Come to me, Jessica, like a child?”
Because in every part of my life, I’ve tried to hide being like a child. I’ve mistaken maturity for a lack of excitement, for a lack of making mistakes, for a lack of being vulnerable to exposing that I’m fallen and in desperate need of a Savior. For the sake of being mature, I mask pain. I find remedies.
Why do I do this??
I’ve learned that there are little avenues in life in which one can appear weak, incompetent, unstable...and broken—in need of assistance.
Ohhhhh…But there is one. It's in His Presence.
Children are dependent. Despite their obvious inadequacies, to others and to even themselves, they are still able to run freely in the fields of the unknown, completely comfortable. Why? I think it’s because they know that they still have time to grow. I think as long as they know that there is One who knows the way, they rest in simply enjoying the ride.
Prayer: Make us like children, Abbah. May Your Holy Presence burn away the fake clothes that we wish to put on in order to cover the scars, weaknesses, and even our own wickedness. We stand before you naked—in full belief that if we are Your children, You clothe us with Your own clothes of righteousness. Clothes that can never be removed, replaced, or altered. Make us like children again, where we can run through the fields with You, unashamed, and in full trust that the work that You began in us..You will complete.
I challenge you to pray to Him as a child, in complete need of the Father—knowing that He already knows of your your sin, your impure thoughts, your impure motives—and yet He still loves. His presence is the safest for confession and repentance. He’s a Good Good Father.
Confess sin as sin in His presence and be oh so thankful for the reality of Christ’s forgiveness. Be oh so thankful that as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed your sins from you. Be oh so thankful for your imputed righteousness. Be oh so thankful that YOU ARE the righteousness of Christ. YOU are a co-heir with Christ! YOU are wrapped in His glory. YOU ARE a new creation! You ARE already seated with Christ in heavenly places.
Simply come to Him and don’t be ashamed of your great need to do so. In doing so, You will experience the utmost freedom. “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (2 Corinthians 3:17). “
Blog Post Inspired from the following passage:
“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.”
My sexy husband and our son.
I Never Knew the Purpose of Chinaware...Until I Met You
For we women actually test those of whom we allow to be touched by. Like fine chinaware, we test those whom we allow to handle us.
The Pastor said we women aren’t “lesser than” but like delicate fine chinaware—to be handled with care and gentleness. No matter how hard I attempt to put up the exterior shell, his words ring true when I'm with you.
I don't like that, in the middle of night, you can simply touch the arch of my back and instantly cause my heart to beat with more ease. Or that when I'm out in public, I easily put up my guard, but when you show up, I just as easily become less aware of my surroundings. Or that when I desperately attempt to be upset, you have a way of melting away the coldness that was intended for payback. Or that when I try to act more put-together than I am, you have a way of coming alongside and quietly protecting the vulnerabilities no one else sees.
You have an effect on me, no matter the exterior shell I wish to put up.
Husbands, continue to treat your wives like fine chinaware, because whether we like it or not—you have an effect on us. Thus the opposite can ring true.
Don't raise your voice at her when you’re angered. Don't treat her with contempt when you grow weary. Don't ignore her when she's in need of a hug. Don't look at your phone when she’s pouring out her heart about something subjectively labeled insignificant. Don't grow insensitive when you see her tears—again. Don't stop letting her know of her true value. When you do, she may not react readily, but inwardly she feels what it’s like to be placed in the hands of the one who never read her instructions : "handle with care."
Yeah, I don't like that you have that effect on me, because no matter how hard I try to put up the exterior, I kid myself...knowing that I was neither made to be handled nor dealt with like tupperware. I'm unashamed to say that I'm gentle and need to be carefully handled.
But be cautious in not misconstruing the message of my words. For I live in a culture in which the prevailing soundbites to be "stronger" are gravely misappropriated. Be strong? That we are. Like fine chinaware, we women test the hands of those whom we allow to handle us. You see...we can’t last in the hands of someone who is weak, clumsy, irresponsible, or unfocused. I'd argue that a husband's strength is reflected in the lack of brokenness, hopelessness, and weariness, revealed in the eyes of his wife.
Be strong? That we are. Be wise? Welp, that's another blog post...
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I, the Female, you the Male
And just as suddenly, I saw the unique difference between you and I. I, the female, and you, the male. And we, madly in love, blind to such beautiful variance.
When did it happen? The transition from best friend to lover to loner. I felt close to you. I felt as a significant twin, almost. And just as suddenly, I saw the unique difference between you and I. I, the female, and you, the male. And we, madly in love, blind to such beautiful variance. As the days rolled on, for whatever reason, the loneliness picked up too, and I saw that my thoughts, feelings, emotions could not be so easily reflected in you anymore. They were isolated, as though apart of an isolated experiment—only found on a distant country. And you, an adventurer, were constantly attempting to discover where the new wind blown from within me originated—but also coming short and resulting in the fatal, “maybe this is just how women are.”
Then our child came, and my emotions, thoughts, and feelings became that much more exacerbated. My ways, that much more differentiated from you. Yet, I needed you just the same. I admired you all the more. And I clung to you—in awe of you, an amazing creation fraught with intentional uniqueness molded by the hands of my Creator.
Though at times I felt lonely, I knew that you probably felt just as lonely too. I, the female, you, the male. Yet I wondered, “did your world seem to be constantly changing and evolving as mine?” It seemed that you simply grew into a mature man from being a boy; whereas I appeared to evolve into entirely different persons, depending on the season. I don’t remember my teenage self. Perhaps there is still apart of her there. But mostly, I see things, circumstances, responsibilities—and my life adjusts to such.
But Father, where is she deep down within. Many say that one must not lose oneself as one becomes older, and so often women do. But so much of what I’ve become is... myself. I wish not to go back. I simply wish to be seen at current face value and currently understood before the next life event causes a shift in change, just as easily. For me, I look in the mirror and smile at the new ways in which You’ve equipped my inner being to handle the multiple thoughts, feelings, and responsibilities rummaging toward me all at once. I gaze into her eyes and am amazed at her ability to be gentle, bold, fearless, quiet, outspoken, guarded, vulnerable, submissive, and in charge—in the span of one day. But moreso, I stand in awe at Your ability to make her feel things that no man can understand, while still granting her the strength to undertake tasks that no man can comprehend.
So what do I do now? In the nights in which it is just me and God. Where the world’s rationale provides little reprieve and my thoughts, feelings, and emotions are nowhere to be found upon discovery. Where do I go? Where do I look to? I’m not sure. But in the meantime, I think on the other side of heaven, it’ll be understood a little more closely. Perhaps the Lord made me like this—wives, mothers, grandmothers, women—so that we could understand that there are parts to God that we will never fully understand. That He has deep feelings that we will never fully comprehend. Just as His love is deeply incomprehensible, I wonder if He ever feels alone. I know theologically inconceivable considering the Trinity. But I wonder if He/They/One ever wish to be known just as I am known. If He does—then these feelings are not in vain. In fact, indeed, there is One who truly understands. Therefore, I end these thoughts abruptly due to the peace brought about through the transaction of this one hopeful notion.
I, the female, and you the male. And now, more than ever, in the midst of seeing our differences, I realize I’m not alone. Difference shines light on my deficit, and I see how I need him/You even more. Thank you Father.